Raw, rugged shards of coastline, hewn from an endless cycle of earthquakes and pounding storms soar from the not-so-Pacific ocean below. Huge pines rake at the menacing clouds. It all makes one feel rather small, pathetic and insignificant.

Each trek started promisingly in mild, sunny, cloudless conditions. And each trek ended in shivering, waterlogged, frostbitten misery. Ahhh, but you couldn't help but grit our teeth and stare out at the boiling, roiling sea below, even if it meant you might just get swept up by a sudden gust and hurled into the maelstrom.